When Knight Falls
by ninjabear2896
Summary: Sequel to Dark Knight's Legacy
1. Chapter 1

He stalked across the rooftops, following her as she moved through the crowd below, weaving her way through busy shoppers and uptight businesspeople. She was carrying a small envelope, one he knew had the words '_Le Sourire de Chat_' in black cursive on the back; but it's contents were still a mystery.

Turning into a small street, the girl sped up, the letter clutched to her chest. Stopping abruptly, she looked up to her right at the sign of a run-down café; two large alabaster statues of grinning milkmaids stood to either side of a fading green door. She knocked twice and leant forward, whispering something, before the window-pane to her right shuddered and slid open. Moving inside, she threw a glance over her shoulder and winced, the pane shutting behind her with a sweep.

Jumping down from where he stood, he approached the sliding door, tapping it once or twice. He decided the best way to go was round the back. He didn't count on there being a trigger pad, which he so happened to step on, letting a shot rip into the air.

* * *

"_What_ happened?" Nelya bellowed into her phone.

"Can we not discuss this now?" Came Blake's painful but exasperated reply.

"Then what in high heavens do you _want_ to talk about?" She was racing through the city streets, on her way to the cave.

"Just...something else…"

"Blake?" She said, "Blake!" The other end was quiet.

Cursing hard enough to make a sailor nervous, she floored the accelerator, turning down the window and pushing her detachable police siren onto the roof of her car.

* * *

Half carrying, half dragging him out of the Batmobile, Nelya swore under her breath, "This is what you get when you go out alone."

"You...were busy." Blake managed, holding the bullet wound at his side and wincing.

She groaned in frustration as she moved towards the treatment area of the cave, "Sod that. You could have waited until after I dropped my parents at the airport. But no, of course not."

"The girl...would have...gotten hurt." His strained voice seethed through gritted teeth as she hauled his arm over the operating table, his leg following, until they were able to get him on it completely, "Couldn't... risk it."

She turned away to tie her hair up and pull on plastic gloves. Taking the tools she needed, she extracted the bullet from the kevlar armour, and noted it was buried deep enough to create severe bruising. Unlatching the suit's ties at his waist, she lifted off the front and let it drop off the other side of the table. She grabbed a pair of scissors and cut his vest underneath, careful not to put pressure on the wound. Peeling back the sweaty but bloodless material, she inspected the bruise: slight discolouration and no dark center meant there weren't any signs of internal bleeding. She sighed in relief as she began wrapping white gauze around his middle.

Finished, she snapped her gloves off, refusing to meet his eyes, "Was this," she gestured to his heavy form, "Worth it?"

"If he could do it alone, so can I." Blake mumbled, looking at his clenched fists.

Her head whirled round, "What did you say?" Pressing the wound gently, so as not to cause bleeding, she grabbed his collar and pulled him towards her, their faces an inch away from each other. She spoke in hushed tones, her eyes square on his, "You are not him, Blake. He was a different man. He is dead. You have to live. You will not make me watch what happened to him happen to you."

There was a brief pause as they realised how close they were to each other. Unwittingly, Blake glanced down at her lips, but remembering himself, looked back up again. Nelya's eyes widened as she loosened her hold of him a little.

"Nelya, I..." Blake began.

A low rumble and faint clicking cut him off. They both shifted their stare at the former part of the cave, eyebrows rising as the disused elevator came creaking down. It stopped when it reached the floor, its doors sliding open. Standing in the middle of the compartment was a small boy, his face hidden by large, black-rimmed glasses. He stepped forward and with awestruck eyes, gazed around the place, "Sweet."

* * *

The two very confused adults looked at each other, surprise evident on both their faces, "The hell are you?" Blake demanded as Nelya turned and gingerly stepped towards the boy.

"I should ask you the same question. Since you're the ones under _my_ house." He pushed up his glasses and crossed his skinny arms. By this point, he had just noticed Nelya approcahing him. Peering up at her for a moment, a glazed look passed across his face, his mouth hanging open slightly, "You're...you're really pretty..." The boy mumbled, blushing a deep red.

Nelya smiled, "Thank you very much."

"What?" Blake breathed from where he still sat, watching in disbelief the scene that was playong out before him. Nelya rolled her eyes as she crouched in front of the boy, "Ignore him. Can I ask how you got here?"

He nodded frantically, still staring intently at her.

"So..." Nelya pushed, gesturing with her hands to elaborate.

"Oh." He snapped to attention, "I was playing on the piano upstairs and it did something and the shelf opened and I went through and it was like an elevator and I went down-"

"Kid!" Blake shouted, now on his feet and shuffling towards them, "We get it. Thanks."

There was a moment of silence as Nelya and the boy watched Blake tried, albeit awkwardly, to get up the steps to join them without causing too much pain. Biting back a laugh, Nelya took his arm and helped him up.

The boy wasn't as restrained as her as he burst into a fit of giggles, "You're so old!"

At this, Nelya snorted and let loose a guffaw, pitching forward and holding her stomach.

"Yeah, yeah," Blake scowled at them, "Make fun of the only injured guy here. Not like I was gonna die or anything."

Settling down, the boy surveyed where he was, "Where is 'here', anyway?"

They stopped short, glancing uneasily at each other. "What do you think?" Nelya asked.

"Me?" The boy pointed at himself, blinking as if he had never been asked that question, "It must be a secret hideout." He walked past them, making a bee-line to the Tumbler, "I mean, what place is underground and has all these gadgety things and not a secret base."

"Hey!" Blake called, "Don't touch that! What's you're name?"

"Tim. Tim Drake."

* * *

"Well, Tim, you're going to have to leave."

"But I just got here!"

"And you thought you were going to stay?"

"Well yeah." He crossed his arms in defence.

"Give me one good reason."

Tim's eyes darted between the waiting two, trying to come up with something. A small, but defiant, smile spread across his face, "If you don't _let_ me stay, I'll tell _everyone _about this place."

Taking a sidelong glance at Blake, Nelya raised her eyebrows, grinning, "Tell me you didn't see that coming."

Blake groaned and made his best effort to stalk away. Tim turned to Nelya, who held out her hand, and they high-fived each other, whooping in triumph.


	2. Chapter 2

**Every time I upload a chapter I seem to always have to apologise about something. Sorry for the incredibly late update****! Enjoy!**

* * *

"You live in Wayne Manor?" Tim nodded, fiddling with the hook of a grappling gun in his tiny hands. Knowing what this meant the adults kept quiet, watching the shrinking face behind his glasses.

"It's okay," the boy said, "You can ask if you want."

Nelya shifted closer to him, crouching to his level, "We won't ask if you don't want to say." She reassured.

At this he shook his head, brow suddenly furrowed, "My mum passed away a couple of years ago, but I had to be put into care because my dad wasn't the best guy in the world."

Both Nelya and Blake winced: growing up with two loving parents, she couldn't even imagine what it would feel like to lose one and being forced to put up with abuse from the other. Blake felt similarly, the only difference was that he knew in situations like this kid's, losing parents who he knew loved him seemed better than experiencing being unloved from someone meant to protect and care for you.

She ruffled his hair, "What say we lighten the mood and see if we can find you a job to do here?"

"And work out a schedule if you're going to be a regular." Blake inputted.

The suggestion made Tim's eyes brightened, a grin and glance at them dissolved his previous frown, "Really?'

"Really?" Nelya repeated, equally as excited.

"Yeah, yeah..." Blake rubbed the back of his head, "But right now, you gotta go up. Don't want anybody missing you."

Tim shrugged, jumping off the table they sat on, "Meh," he sighed, "No one really misses me."

Nelya pouted, "What do you mean?"

Tim looked down, "I'm not the most popular person with anyone up there, even some of the teachers and carers ignore me."

"Well that's just not cool." She frowned, crossing her arms.

He shrugged again, "I don't like them much anyway."

She nodded, "Good. They don't deserve your love."

Blake sighed, "Okay, squirt. I think you should head up now, get some sleep..." He yawned extravagantly.

She took Tim by the shoulder and led him to the lift, "What Blake is trying to say," She rolled her eyes at the man in question, "Is that we all need some rest. We'll let you know when you can come down soon, kay?"

He held up his little finger, "Promise?"

"I promise." She agreed, curling her own little finger around his, sealing the deal.

* * *

When Tim had left, the two remaining were silent for the better part of five minutes. Finally, Blake piped up, not being able to stand the quiet anymore, "We need to talk."

She looked up at him from where she tapped and clicked on the super-computer; she still didn't turn all of her attention to him, though, despite how serious he was. Her face was unusually open, in spite of being seemingly distracted; clearly, she had been thinking the same thing. Instead, she replied with, "What about?"

He ran a hand across his cheek, letting his frustration be shown, and quickly hobbled over to her, holding his side, "Don't give me bull, Nel. You know what about."

"I don't think what I want to talk about is what you want to talk about." Her stiff, incredibly English, upper-lip was put into play. That and her natural stubbornness always meant that he was always the first one to surrender.

But not this time.

He was annoyed. Annoyed at her. At himself. At getting shot after the massive dive that happened today. It didn't feel like they were even friends anymore. There was something else there that he realised they both couldn't place. Before, he had passed it off as feeling the burden of being the Batman; having thought on it during confused late nights, it started to feel like something different. "I know what you want to say to me and that can wait. This," he motioned between the two of them, "this can't."

She remained silent. He tried not to pull his hair out. "We've been at each other since before your parents came to visit, and I don't think I completely know why." He held up his hand when she did try to answer, knowing what she was going to argue, "It's not our normal bickering either. These are full on fights we're having over the smallest thing one of us does."

He expected a witty retort or a snide remark but she didn't breathe a word.

"Are you going to say anything or am I gonna have to do all the talking for once?" He huffed, shaking his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts.

"What if, 'for once', I don't want to do much talking." She said it like a statement rather than a question he could answer.

"You said it yourself, you have dragged me through hell and high water. So you owe me as much."

Inhaling sharply through her nose, she released her breath and clenched jaw, "Do you remember, previous to getting kidnapped, we were being held at my apartment and Nathair said...some things?"

He nodded slowly, affirming what she was saying.

"They were true. At least the basics of what he meant were."

He stared at her hardened eyes and pressed lips. It were her reddening cheeks that gave away what she was explaining to him. Someone would think motion didn't seem to register in his mind from the way he was standing. Nelya rolled her eyes and slapped him, not entirely gently, across the cheek.

He gulped, still dazed, "Wow."

"Listen, if you're going to make fun of me-"

Instead, he kissed her.


	3. Chapter 3

It was a chaste kiss, but a kiss nonetheless.

Wide-eyed, Nelya watched him pull back fractionally, keeping a steady gaze on each other. A mixture of uncertainty and surprise was evident on her face and Blake began to regret his spurred decision. He opened his mouth to apologise but it was his turn to get cut off. She tenderly brushed her lips against his own, and, lingering there, she pressed more firmly against him, the hand resting on his chest tightening its grip on his shirt.

They didn't progress to anything more, instead, they both moved away from each other again slightly and blushed. It seemed neither wanted to meat the other's eyes, not completely confident with what they would show.

The computer beeped and they glanced at it. An office block was being kept hostage at gunpoint, those reponsible and the amount of hostages were unknown.

Silence ensued as Nelya went to suit up, taking this evening's problem into her own hands. Blake held back, unsure of what to do after the moment they had just shared, absentmindedly scrolling through the police report that had come up.

"I'm coming with you." He finally said.

"You can barely walk." She mumbled, busying herself with tying her boots on.

"I'll stay in the car as lookout."

Before she put on her mask Blake saw the corner of her mouth kick up, "Fine."

* * *

The smaller, sleeker 'Batmobile', as Nelya liked to call it, was parked a couple of metres away from the office block, its headlights turned down. All thoughts of their personal lives were put on hold for the moment. Blake sat in the passenger's seat, pouring over the police reports again. The only news was that one hostage was sent out tied up, a bag over her head with a red face resembling a cat painted over it. A note on red paper had been stapled to her shirt with the same clumsy cat drawing and a message in cursive writing: 'Why so serious?'

* * *

Running to the back of the building, she checked behind the barbed wired fence before jumping over it, propelling herself through the courtyard to take cover in the shadows. By now she had realised how desperate the situation was but tried to not let it get to her. Spying a door a couple of meters away, she crept up to it and jiggled the handle.

It opened.

Too easy.

It was far too easy.

* * *

_And for my final trick..._

_I'm going to make you all..._

_Disappear..._

_One..._

_'Click'_

_Two..._

_'Click'_

_Three._

_Bye bye_

_:)_

* * *

Only seconds passed before she leapt away from the building, looking up just in time to see the top floor burst into flames, large blocks of broken concrete raining down.

Watching the debris fall from the fire above and equally hot inferno boiled inside her, spurring her to the door hanging open and up the flight of stairs. It was dark save for the faint red glow outside the windows but what was the most disturbing of all of this was the silence. She couldn't hear anything; there were no shouts, no cries, nothing. She dearly hoped the hostages were just unconscious. When she reached the top floor, there was only one person stranding amidst the rubble.

The figure was facing away from her in a burnt, purple coat, the sides covered in scorch marks. They had straggly white hair, greenish in hue, their head bent down.

"My, my." They said, the ominously cheery sound was coupled with a deeper, grating noise, "You weren't who I was waiting to see."

They turned around, "No matter, we'll have a party anyway!" A wide, bloody grin stretched their face and a series of cackles was let loose.

The Joker.


End file.
